What lies. I normally would say what these people say is “inaccurate”, but all of their “concerns” and “ideas” were just lies. The workers are still asking questions they learned (allegedly) in their initial training. And, they are asking the questions to administrators who are not directly involved with the day-to-day operations of deciding whether or not to remove a child. Here is a fact for those who care, these people decided whether or not to remove children by having teleconference calls with a unit comprised of the “doctor”, the “case manager”, the “worker”, a few other morons, and they review reports, a ton of them — most of which are inaccurate to begin with (remember workers don’t even go to the homes sometimes or speak to witnesses) and make decision to remove children in that manner. The reports will even have the wrong description of a child, such as the wrong sex. THAT, is how this happens. Confirmed!

Sometimes, I get these little quirky “feelings” I must post something specific. Maybe this is for you. There is a ton of other information regarding this topic specifically, but it was one of my secret ingredients in my research for my own case. I just recommend you read about this topic as much as you can. Be reminded that Dependency Court is not civil court although some legal folks would suggest so. I am not an attorney, but I lived and experienced this myself. Dependency court is more like Criminal court and that is what A LOT of legal folks told me. Cost of legal fees alone can prove that. But anyway, the thing was that the whole time my judge carried out my 10-month long trial, the whole time they probably had less than 1% of “evidence” against me, and even then, the 1% would have been “less than” that percentage because the “evidence” against me consisted of “reports”, or “hearsay”, that was sadly based on other “reports” and “hearsay”. What a joke right? Well, not really.

You see, what gets you in court, especially if you’ve never been, is the intimidation. The prosecutors (yes, they are “State” prosecutors – straight out of law school if you are lucky, cuz they suck, and yes, there may be more than one you are up against) will dress up the entire case against you, “as if” they have all this stuff on you. But the TRUTH is, if you have not done anything wrong, then they have nothing! You can count on false or incorrect reports being presented, and you will need to endure weeks or months of the prosecution presenting all of these lies and mistakes before you can even correct or clarify them because when the state goes after you, they get to go first in court presentation. That is a very tough thing to do when they want you to lose your mind and cuss them out in court so you can be arrested so that they at least can get you on that. Mind games and more mind games. But again, that only works if you have never been to trial before, which explains how losers like Lindsey Lohan get away with stuff because they already know what they can and cannot say in court.

But anyway, back to this P of P…it is also a very sick level of evidence. You see, this pretty much suggests that if the judge is 50/50 sure you are a risk, the 1% will make him/her use their wild card, or “coward” card as I refer to it, and “air in the side of caution” and side in favor of the state. An alleged “criminal”, like a serial rapist, child-torturer, etc….well he/she gets to have a “jury”, or a set of eyes and ears that is not looking out for a mafia government agency, and gets to have them decide on a “beyond a reasonable doubt” level, or “without a doubt – 100% sure”. Plus they get double-jeopardy. Just lovely, isn’t it?

I hope that this topic at least helps some of those folks who are in similar situations as I was and clearly have a B.S. case against them so that you can maneuver through your trial and hopefully not have such a long one. The judge in my case said my case’s length was “unusual”. Based on cases I’ve followed, it appears that the average dependency trial averages 3 months max, possibly influenced by TPR (Termination of Parental Rights) limitation rules.

A requirement that more then 50% of the evidence points to something. This is the burden of proof in a civil trial.

For example: At the end of civil case A v. B, 51% of the evidence favors A. Thus, A has a preponderance of the evidence, A has met their burden of proof, and A will win the case.

Definition from Nolo’s Plain-English Law Dictionary

The burden of proof required in a civil (non-criminal) action to convince the court that a given proposition is true. The plaintiff must convince the judge or jury by a preponderance of the evidence that the plaintiff’s version is true — that is, over 50% of the believable evidence is in the plaintiff’s favor. Compare: reasonable doubt

Just like the Fort Lauderdale Police Department did to my family, we were pushed, threatened with arrest by armed uniformed men who forced themselves into my home, pushing my elderly father on the floor…child kidnapped. No papers of any kind were presented, as confirmed at the first dependency hearing I attended. No one argued that paperwork was never presented to me, including no warrant and no probably cause documents. But the police officers there that day did what they did anyway and handed an innocent child to dangerous CPS workers who then later handed the child to a sexual abuser. Police…puppets to the system, or accomplices?

Today I recalled one of my visits with one of the greatest human beings that you have been blessed to share Earth’s oxygen with, and that I have had the honor of being serviced by, Dr. David Burkhead. I asked this angelic therapist during one of my sessions, “Do you think I am hystrionic (attention-seeking personality) like they tried to label me during various of my hearings (among other things like suffering from Munchausen’s Syndrome, a favorite used against mothers)? He chuckled and asked me “why?” I answered, “Well, I started this blog during my trial and never published anything. But now that the trial is over I have started going public. Am I seeking attention? Is that a bad thing? To bring attention to something that was bad and shouldn’t have happened?”

See, ladies and gents, my reasons for doing whatever this blog is remains the same. I hurt — a lot. Then, now, forever, I hurt for as far back too as I can remember when this whole thing started. I can forgive some of the irresponsible people, but I cannot forgive the evil monsters who just looked the other way and tried to cover up. But forgiving or not, it still hurts a lot. I hurt because of unfinished justice. I hurt because there was more pain after my trial when the new challenges of dealing with my child’s PTSD and sexual abuse trauma followed. I hurt because my family, friends and I became depressed during the holidays when we remembered spending them without my child. Now, I hurt because it seems that every single day someone else comes forward with a suffering caused by the courts and governmental abuse. Some have children that have died, while others have children that are “as if” dead because they are gone. And, we all want to tell you about it because at the very least we should be able to do so. It is not the lies that lamestream media reports or that politicians mask. It’s a truth like it really happens — like it happens to normal people like you and me. Behind the closed, “secret courts” as we refer to them.

In his typical, wonderfully whimsical, hyper-speechy-kinda-way, the very dear Dr. Burkhead said, “You are just keeping a record…you want there to be some record of what happened…it’s as if you DON’T WANT IT TO BE IN VAIN”….Now please note, that he didn’t yell it out or anything, and it probably wasn’t said exactly in those words, but it was very close to that and I capitalized for emphasis only because those words are key. I DON’T want it to be in vain. How can something so horrible just happen and government workers just move on happily in their overpaid jobs and deny my child any apologies or repair in spite of the obvious crimes they allowed and even caused in some instances. I lost so much and gained nothing from this. Or, did I? Must this pain all be in vain, or can I transform it into something useful? Perhaps, something even great.

This is what this blog was and is for me. Surely, there are various layers to it and different things come out of it, but what it is without a doubt, is a record of something that happened, and that I CHOOSE not to forget. And, might i add, I choose that YOU shall not forget.

Plus, I didn’t start it. The bad guys did. They helped make me the person I am today. Should I thank them? They had plenty of opportunities to apologize for their errors and negligence, but they chose not to do it. If there was ever a chance this person I am today could have turned out differently, that opportunity is long gone. They haven’t apologized once, publicly or privately.

So, it’s my blog and I will say what I want to. And, if I am not being truthful, then that will come out too. I’ve already been threatened by DCF attorneys to watch out for what I put out there. But, the fact remains YOU GET OUT WHAT YOU PUT OUT. Afterall, I didn’t start the fight. They did. The evildoers create statutes to stop you from exposing the truth about their errors and negligences even after you beat them in court. Isn’t that clear evidence of a broken system?

Your lies for my truth? I will accept that offer any day. The truth is always going to come out, in some form or another. It might just need to be told in a more creative manner, like art reflecting life.

The best part to all of this is that no matter the challenges ahead with getting the truth out — way out — in the open, I am comforted in knowing that it is perfectly normal to want to do so — to tell the truth and always the truth, so help us God.

All it takes is that moment, a quick flash of a memory triggered after hearing your child express her anger, in gruesome detail, about how a man she loved so much, her father, would not believe that his friend hurt her “butt” and “pee pee”. How her father chooses everyone over her. How he was upset with her all the time and called her “bad”. How he left her alone in the “ugly house” with the man who destroyed her faith in life. All this leading to a very clear, accurate image of your child grabbing you by the hand over a year ago during your supervised visit at the very dirty offices of Childnet, Inc. in Fort Lauderdale, pulling you by the hand and asking, “Are we going home now, Mommy?” Just a few days after being kidnapped from her home.

Since when did my little girl and I become criminals of the State? Since when do I have to see my daughter in a room made up of old, clothed cubicle walls, dirty and old furniture and broken down toys? Who created this prison for my child and me? My child was safe with me. My child had made me promise before her kidnapping that I would protect her from the “bad” people. I had told her that telling the truth was always the right choice. Not only were we prisoners, but the State made me a traitor to my child, a minor, a born citizen, a future patriot of our great country. She is a little person for which our soldiers give up their lives in our wars. She is someone that you and I have sworn our allegiance to. Betrayal, betrayal, betrayal!

It can come as no surprise then, that when she loses her temper and throws her never-ending tantrums, now less violent than in days past, that she would accuse me of letting her down. Of not “saving” her, of letting “the bad police take me (her) away”. Of course, she is telling the truth. I did the best I could at that moment, but ultimately my child calls it what it is, I failed her.

I publicly apologize to her for not having pushed the armed police officers out of her way. I apologize for opening the door to see what the visit was about and seeing them barge in without a warrant, for letting one of them push my elderly and ill father into the floor, in front of her, as he only tried to put shoes on her because they were carrying her away in only her pajamas, at almost midnight, on July 31, 2009. No time for a bag, her Elmo toy, no time for a goodbye, just like the Gestapo did with our Jewish brothers and sisters. I apologize for not owning weapons then to defend my castle from the demonic child protection workers who cowardly used the police as their gunmen to invade our home.

Where did all these memories go? For a moment, there was nothing else but this continuous heartache scarred into my spirit that just became a way of life. But today, there was this need to scream as loud as possible in response to my heartache. The most terrible, spiritually aching feeling one could imagine. Lack of air, disbelief with my lack of actions, I wish I could scream, but it is too late now. As I once again feel her little, tender hand on mind insisting on going home, I can only remember my coward answer made up of the most cautious words I could think of at the time, “No, I’m so sorry, my love. Our time is up, but I will see you next week. Remember, that mommy loves you with all her heart.”

Once more a traitor I became because I would not see my daughter the following week. They would stop my visitation for seven and half months. Not her voice, not her face, I would see nothing of her during that time. When I heard the words come out of Judge Lisa Porter’s lips, I felt myself gasping for air. The room was turning and I could feel my heart being pulled away from my body. I wanted to scream again, but again, I didn’t. It was as if my child was being evaporated before my eyes. Slowly, her scent in our home disappeared. Every night I sniffed her clothing, her shoes, whatever I could get my hands on that reminded me of her. And slowly each month, I cried with my mother as we both realized she was disappearing. Her stinky shoes were almost nothing again, because everything was nothing without her. But what was my little angel thinking? Did they kill me in her eyes as well? She tells me now that she thought I died. Sometimes she tells me that they told her I was a bad mommy and was getting help. I would have done, and would do, anything I could to have saved you. But I was a coward. I only knew how to follow the law. I only listened to those who told me this was a “process”. How could the bond of a mother and child facing a horrific ordeal be a “process”?

Who am I? I am the anomaly. I am the accident that wasn’t supposed to happen. For years, the State of Florida, and government in general, has been legally kidnapping children for profit. Like the jail business that has made the news lately, it is an organized crime network primarily centered at the State and local government levels. My personal experience with these demons is not usual. There are many elements of it that you have heard about in the news, but it is the uniqueness of my entire case that makes it possible for the public to see the many levels of this broken system. I am not the typical mother or father you hear about in the news. I am referring to that parent or guardian that had a little pot or coke in their pocket when they were stopped with a DUI. Now more than ever, I am the last one to judge. You learn to park your judgment at mainstream media’s denouncement of a parent when you start to ask the right questions. Is an alcoholic or drug user the same as a pedophile or child abuser? Did the person drive under the influence with a child in the car, or would he or she never do such a thing? Regardless of how you pass judgment, my story went nothing like that. It is very simple, in fact. It’s just about reporting a horrendous crime and paying the price for it. It’s about seeing, truly seeing, how the state operates to a point in which you actually believe you may be able to help stop their crimes against children and families. It is because of the gross mistakes their workers made that a regular person like me, with some education and a computer, can openly share them with the public. They’ve already called me every name in their book, but it’s hard to keep on doing this when they are busy destroying other lives every day. So maybe, I can speak on behalf of some of the not-so-model citizens who are going through similar horrific situations. Even for some of those law abiding and model citizens that don’t know where to start.

I’m not so sure what was holding me back since my Independence Day on May 14, 2010. But something was. Hopefully it was all the in-between events since then, but it doesn’t feel like it. While I face my personal challenges in moving forward with this mission, I make a deal with myself to move forward regardless of what I may be contemplating. Contemplation will only figure out the end part of this story. Meantime, there is no need to wait on taking action. Action resides at every beginning. So here it goes. A big “thank you” goes out to Dr. David Burkhead, because I have finally put out the “Welcome” mat out for my negative feelings.